Bedazzled
by Amber Krueger
Summary: Sam learns that when the Devil says "sit down, take a break" he means much more than just that. One shot, Sam/Devil, SLASH. Rated M for strong adult situations.


The night was humid, and that made it a little more than just unpleasant for Sam to be working overtime at the Bench. He had gotten into another fuss with Ted about leaving work without notice a few more times than he usually did, that week especially. So he was forced to work nights and weekends for the rest of the month.

However, Sam didn't really mind. He had nothing better to do, aside from capturing escaped souls from hell. So instead of arguing the point with Ted, he accepted his consequence without a fight.

The last thing he wanted was having Ted nag him to death.

Sam sighed and hitched a bag of manure over his shoulder. It had to have been maybe sixty to seventy pounds, and as he carried the hefty bag of cow feces to the four-foot stack of previous bags he had already lugged over, he thought of that one time the Devil had "meddled" with Ted's schedule and got him off of garbage duty and into the garden center.

He was not thrilled, to say the least.

"Aw, come on. It's not THAT heavy."

Sam dropped the bag of manure and pivoted to find the Devil standing aloofly by the garden center entrance.

"What do you want?" Sam looked down by his feet, glaring at the broken bag of manure that scattered all over his shoes and the concrete around him.

The Devil frowned somewhat disappointedly. "That's alright. I can sense when I'm not wanted. I'll let you get back to your... fecal matters." He gestured his hand toward Sam's shoes and inclined his head in a nod before he turned to leave.

Sam pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. "No, wait. I'm sorry; I'm just not in that good of a mood right now."

The Devil's back was turned to Sam, and before he swiveled back around, his lips curled up over his teeth into a vicious grin. "That's ok, Sammy. I'm not one to enjoy hard labor either. Why don't you sit down, take a break?"

Sam appeared more than just eager to sit down. In fact, he didn't hesitate to kick back and get lazy the second the Devil suggested he take a break.

"You know, Sam. I've noticed lately... that you've been working hard and haven't been complaining. See, that's what I like about you. You get the job done, no matter what the consequences." The Devil stalked in Sam's direction until he stood half a foot away, looming over the tired reaper with a smile.

"Yeah," Sam said, tilting his head back and yawning. He sat on a smaller stack of manure than the other one, and leaned against an oversized flowerpot, legs spread out and arms resting lazily at his sides.

The Devil crouched down in front of Sam and studied him closely. It was when Sam felt a tugging at his jeans and heard the distinct sound of his fly being unzipped, he opened his eyes and tumbled backward, busting the flowerpot he was leaning against.

"What are you doing?!" Sam cried out, grabbing at his jeans to pull them back up.

The Devil didn't say anything in response; instead he moved over Sam and pulled him up with an air of possessiveness. "Oh Sammy, let me touch you," he purred in Sam's ear and pushed him up against a concrete wall.

Sam's mouth fell agape and he tried desperately to figure out what was going on.

"Uh... wh..."

The Devil pressed up against Sam, who became utterly alarmed by the feeling of his boss' erection pressing into the crotch of his jeans.

He stammered, trying not to look the Devil in the eye.

"Look at me, Sammy," the Devil said with flawless composure, his hand trailing down to Sam's boxers. He thumbed at the elastic band tauntingly, smiling maliciously.

Sam hadn't the slightest idea of what was going on. The Devil had him pressed up against a wall, with a hand moving down his shorts.

Was this really happening?

Sam never wanted to admit to himself that he always found the Devil a little attractive, and to Sam, little meant a lot, but he had never imagined this happening. Never.

He would at times, find himself staring at the Devil. Admiring him, his one-of-a-kind smile and his suave appearance, but at that very moment, he tried his best to focus elsewhere.

Although, that was a little more than just difficult because the Devil was now stroking Sam's penis with one hand and undressing him with the other.

His breathing became gritty, and sounded like something out of a porn movie as he pushed Sam's pants down to his ankles. Within the next three minutes, Sam was harder than he had ever been in his life, and every muscle in his body ached to be touched.

Either he was really into this, or the Devil did something to fuck up his mind.

Whether or not, Sam didn't care.

"That's right, Sammy." The Devil said as he peeled the rest of Sam's clothing off until nothing but his Work Bench apron remained.

Sam couldn't speak; he was caught up in the distractive feeling of being jacked off by the Devil. And that itself not being the only distraction. Sam couldn't help but think about the Devil's own erection. He knew he felt it, and it when he glanced down, he knew he saw it; bulging through the Devil's slacks rather evidently.

Sam moaned, nearing his climax.

The Devil smiled and went down, causing Sam to gasp in surprise as a long tongue slid teasingly around his cock. Sam pushed his hips forward and the Devil took Sam's entire cock down his throat.

Sam's brow furrowed and his mouth fell open as the Devil's throat muscles tightened around him. He faltered to say anything in _a spur of the moment_, he wanted to say the Devil's name, but he didn't know how well that would go over with him.

Lasciviously, Sam placed a hand on the Devil's head and pushed down, enlacing his fingers through the Devil's black hair.

The Devil grasped Sam's hips tightly and Sam keened with pleasure.

Without thinking, Sam cried out "Devil!" numerous times as the intense ripples of his orgasm surged through him, and as he shot his load down the Devil's throat.

The Devil grasped Sam's cock and massaged until he milked out every last drop of cum. "My, my Sammy. You really do like getting head don't you?"

Sam nodded, bedazzled by the Devil's intent actions.

The Devil tugged at Sam's cock and slowly rose to meet his reaper at eyelevel.

"And I daresay, you are simply delicious." He clutched Sam's chin with an iron grip and pulled him into a deep kiss.

When the Devil broke the kiss, he took a single step back and looked at his reaper up and down.

"Your nametags crooked." He smiled wickedly and disappeared, leaving Sam in nothing but his uniformed blue Work Bench apron that now reeked of sex, and his jeans, sloppily pooled around his ankles.

Sam sighed gaining back full composure before pulling his underwear and pants back up, then searched for his missing T-shirt, which was never to be seen again once he found a note in his locker, bidding that he find something a little more conservative for later that night, where the Devil had made plans to go you-know-whoknows where, and do you-know-who knows what.


End file.
